


Wind, Wind, Fly Away

by spirithorse



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Background Sorey/Mikleo - Freeform, Dragons, M/M, One-sided Malfore/Mikleo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: After years of doing his duty as a Shepherd, Malfore finally finds a way to renew his search for Mikleo. Climbing over the mountains is a daunting task, but he is willing to do it for his lost love and to avenge himself against the beast that stole Mikleo away.





	Wind, Wind, Fly Away

**Author's Note:**

> Diving back into this verse again, just to deal with Malfore and what happens further along in Mikleo and Sorey’s life together. Title taken from _Tranquil Lullaby_ by Jenia Lubich.

“So how do you measure the worth of a man?  
In wealth or strength or size?  
In how much he gained or how much he gave?  
The answer will come  
The answer will come to him who tries  
To look at his life through Heaven's eyes.”  
- _Through Heaven’s Eyes_ , Prince of Egypt

* * *

 

Malfore plodded through the snow, his gaze fixed ahead of him. He couldn’t see through the flying snow, but it didn’t matter. Malfore wasn’t sure he would be able to turn his head. Every part of him was numb, to the point where Malfore wasn’t sure if he was even whole anymore. Every part of him was battered and bruised from his climb into the Guest Mountains from the Rolance side. The parts that had survived were frozen from the whipping winds and snow, but he didn’t dare stop, not when he was so close.

It had taken him thirty years, but he had finally found someone who knew a path to climb over the Guest Mountains to the Hyland side. It was far too late for him to harbor any hope that his beloved was still alive, but there was still the matter of the promises that he had made to himself and others. Alisha and Mikleo’s parents might be putting up a brave front, but he was sure that they felt the grief the same way that he did. Someone just as important to them had been taken away and killed.

Malfore licked his lips, feeling them stinging in pain for a moment before they froze again. That was a different kind of relief, because the numbness was better than pain. The pain kept him from feeling the ache from his old wound. It had been hard won from a dragon, but he considered it a good trade off. The dragon was dead, and that was an entire village free of its horror. Anyone who said differently had just fallen into the delusion that dragons were a kind of savior. It was a rumor that had popped up now and again in the worst of times. If you called out to a dragon using its name, it would come and take you away to somewhere better, if its stomach was a better place. But that didn’t stop people from doing it.

He cursed under his breath, regretting the word a moment later. He slowed to a stop, swaying in place as he tried to orient himself. The world was nothing but white all around him. If he kept moving forward, there was a likely chance that he could fall off the mountain. It would be smart to stop for the night, but he didn’t dare. He couldn’t find cover and sleeping out in the open would mean death.

Malfore rubbed at his arms, watching as his breath rose in the cold air. Now that he had stopped he didn’t think that he could go on. His legs felt like were frozen place. People from the village would come up the pass and find him frozen upright, a Shepherd trying to do his duty until the end.

He sucked in a quick breath, the air escaping just as quickly when the cold hit his lungs. Malfore wanted to cough, but nothing came out but a wheeze. He thought he raised a hand to block it, but everything was hazy, just like the landscape around him. He swayed in place before dropping to his knees. Malfore managed to hold himself upright before sprawling out in the ground. He watched as the snow drifted down around him, knowing that he should move, but he had reached his limit.

He had always known that this would be his last mission, but he had hoped that he would be closer to the end when he finally gave out.

Malfore pawed at the snow for a moment before giving up. He had intended to bring back Mikleo’s bones to be buried alongside of his own, but maybe it would be enough that they were both on the same mountain. He hoped it would be.

He reached underneath his coat, pulling out the necklace that he wore under all of his layers. The pendant was clumsy to open, his gloved fingers working at the clasp. Finally it fell open, Malfore smiling at the portrait of Mikleo inside. It had been painted when they had first started courting, and it was perfect. The way Mikleo’s long hair fell over his shoulder, the soft, demure smile. It was everything that he had loved for the past thirty years.

Malfore ran his thumb along the edge of the pendant. If this was the way he was going to go, he wanted to be looking at this. All the other mementos of his years as a Shepherd didn’t matter as much as this.

He licked his lips again, coaxing the perfect last words from his lips. “I’ll see you soon, beloved.”

He let his head tip to the side, not daring to move his gaze from the pendant cradled in his hand. Not even when the cold settled deep into the bones, to the point where the cold almost felt warm. Not even when the pristine white of the snow was broken up by black shadows flying overhead.

Not even when a dark shadow fell over him, a large eye peering down at him before sharp claws reached out.

* * *

“How is he?”

“Not well. We’re keeping a close watch on him. But this weather isn’t good for him.”

“It’s not good for flying either. But will he survive?”

“A few days, but I can’t promise anything more.”

“A few days…that will be enough time to get back to the shrine and Messmu Meqcsbebq.”

“If that’s the case, then we should be able to keep him stable.”

“Good. Let Tweksdiwb Tmaru know, but be gentle about it. He may not have been called but…”

“He takes after you then.”

“Perhaps. But I seem to remember certain things about his mother…”

“Be gone with you, you old lizard, and leave me to keep this human from freezing.”

* * *

Malfore woke slowly, his mind in a haze. It seemed like mere moments since he had closed his eyes, which wasn’t something that he wanted to do. He needed to keep doing something, but the reasons escaped him. Malfore stared up at the ceiling above him, trying to piece together what he was missing. He remembered hearing about a dragon and chasing after that, but there hadn’t been one. At least not one that the villagers had been willing to tell him about. Instead there had been something else, but it was mired in cold.

He felt his fingers twitch, Malfore turning his head to look at them. He stared at his skin, surprised to see it for some reason. It was blocked out by the same haze that filled everything. He curled his fingers towards his palm before repeating the movement.

They should have looked different, not his same skin tone. They should have been in gloves or starting to turn black with the way that they were exposed. He might not remember anything else, but that was firm in his mind. There had been snow and cold, he could still feel the latter in his bones making everything ache. The old scar down the side of his leg felt like it was on fire, and it only did that in the cold. There was something with that, something about the cold and a passage.

Malfore sat upright, feeling everything spin around him. For a moment, he was almost sure that he saw walls and furniture around him, but that was impossible. He was traveling somewhere important, to see the only person that mattered to him.

He closed his hand again, staring numbly at it before looking around. Malfore gasped when he saw his pendant lying on a nearby table. He took several, painful steps toward it so he could scoop it up gently. Malfore cradled the necklace in his hands, staring down at the gold. He went to open it up, but he didn’t trust his fingers. They were shaking too much and he didn’t want to damage the precious thing. It was all he had left. Instead, he raised it with shaking hands to press a kiss against the metal.

Malfore let it rest there for a moment before pulling the pendant on, absently adjusting it so it rested over his heart. He pressed his hand against it, looking around the room. And it was a room, he could see that now. There were walls, furniture and a ceiling, nothing at all what he remembered. Malfore was sure that the pass had been real, the cold was too deep inside him to ignore, which meant none of this was real. It was all something that he had made up while he was dying out in the snow.

He smiled to himself and reached out to touch the wall, staring in awe as it lit up where his fingers pressed against it. Even if it was just a hallucination, it was beautiful.

Malfore patted the wall absently, his attention already straying away. Maybe this was the heaven that the church spoke of, beautiful in its simplicity and far better than the cold of the pass.

He dragged his fingers along the wall as he walked, only lifting them away when he had to avoid furniture. Heaven was sparse, or maybe that was just its design. There was nothing of the rigors and temptations of life. It was beautiful in its own way.

Malfore followed the wall to a door, stepping through it and out of the hallway. He turned to keep his fingers on the wall, but he didn’t move. The hall was filled with other doorways, probably places where other people him were just starting to wake up into their afterlife. Malfore was tempted to peek inside them, but that felt like a violation of privacy. The others would have to wake up on their own time, he wanted to walk a bit. Maybe that would ease the last of the cold from his bones and the aches on his body. The priests had all said that they would be reborn in the land that the seraphim had originally come from with a body free of pain, and yet it was still there. Nearly thirty years of fighting the dragons that infested his land, and that was what he had to show for it.

They still plagued the earth, and some people had taken to calling to them for salvation like they were some kind of pagan gods. But he had done the best that he could, and he was tired. Surely seven dragons was enough. He’d never heard of any other Shepherd doing anything better, not even Shepherd Asbel. Certainly that would be enough to let him rest.

Malfore slowed down at the sound of voices, his eyes widening. He hadn’t expected anything, mostly because the priests had been annoyingly vague about what to expect. Even they weren’t sure about what the land of the seraphim had looked like, the seraphim had never spoken about it. They had never said anything about other people being there, but it made sense. It was where all of them would go after their lives were done. There would probably be people waiting for him there. His mother, his father, the comrades that had died fighting with him.

Mikleo.

Malfore sped up, his breath coming in short pants as he hobbled down the hallway. It was probably a foolish thing to do, especially when somewhere he was dying in the mountains, but he didn’t care. There was more keeping him here than there. He had done his duty as a Shepherd and passed on the knowledge to future generations, or so he hoped. There was every chance that the two Shepherds he had trained were dead too. Dragons were unforgiving and mistakes were easy to make.

He stumbled down the hallway, heading for the source of the voices. The sound echoed down the hallway, Malfore imagining that some kind of large room waited for him, with something laid out for a great hero who had given his life in the service of the people.

He picked up his pace, ignoring the sting of pain as he rushed toward the end of the hallway.

It opened into a wide open room, Malfore staring at it. He had thought that there would only be a few waiting, just his loved ones. But this was a crowd of people, none of whom that he could place immediately. What was clear was that they weren’t like the rest of the people back in the land of the living. Those had been a starved and desperate lot, scraping whatever they could out of the land. Even the area around Pendrago had been practically ruined by hard seasonal rains. It wasn’t a place that allowed for anything like this, rich or poor.

The people here were wearing bright colors, far brighter and more elaborately decorated than Malfore had ever seen, even on the richest noble. And they were too light to be reasonable. Outside there would be nothing but cold, and those looked like the wind would blow right through them. Or maybe it was for the blazing hot summers that would roast someone from the outside in. He couldn’t tell, but the last thing he remembered was cold.

He stumbled into the wall and leaned against it, watching all the people mill around. They seemed to be content, all of them lazing around in large groups. There had to be some order to it all, but Malfore couldn’t quite work it out. He was too busy looking at all the people, shocked to see them without the pinched cheeks and blank expressions. There were a few exceptions to that rule, but Malfore had never managed to figure out how the people had found patches of paradise, because there had seemed to be no order to them.

Then again, it made sense that heaven would look like this. There would be no point to having suffering here, not if the seraphim really cared like everyone said they did.

Malfore didn’t know how long he stared, but he was happy to just stand there. He only pulled his gaze away when he felt something paw at his leg. He frowned and looked down his eyes widening as he saw the thing crouched by his leg.

At first he thought that it was a kind of dog, then a bird because of its feathers. But it wasn’t a type of bird that he recognized, it was too large and with bright blue and silver feathers. The silver ran down from its head onto its back and wings, Malfore staring at the banded pattern. If it wasn’t a bird, then it might be a seraphim, which made sense. If they were in the home of the seraphim, then it made sense for them to be there. He had expected them to look more like the representations in the shrine churches, but he assumed that they could be whatever they wanted. Seraphim were elemental creatures after all, nothing could bind them.

He shifted to look at the seraph a little better, Malfore watching as the bird rocked back to look at him, his breath catching as the bird stood on its hind legs. Malfore watched as its forelegs were tucked into the feathers on its chest. That made it look more like a bird, but Malfore had seen too many of its kind to be fooled.

His hand dropped to where he kept his sword, his fingers moving over empty air. He swallowed, not daring to move his gaze away from the dragon staring at him. It was small, which had to be the only reason it hadn’t attacked, and he had to use that to his advantage. If there were dragons in heaven, then it was a grave error, and one only a Shepherd could correct.

Malfore bent down, watching as the tiny creature swayed on its back legs. It was a risk getting this close, the dragon could lunge for his face, but it was the only way to get to the one weapon that he had left on him. He felt around at the top of his boot, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the knife there. He wiggled his fingers in deeper, trying to get a better grip on the knife even as he plotted his next move.

The dragon wouldn’t stay when it saw the knife, so he would have to draw and grab it quickly. And then, he would have to retreat. Malfore turned his head slightly to see the rest of the group. These were souls at piece and shouldn’t be disturbed. He would have to slip away to get rid of the dragon in their midst and then find the nearest seraph to pray for forgiveness. Even if it was to save their souls, he felt bad spilling blood anywhere near them.

Malfore took a few deep breaths, returning his focus as the dragon trilled. It didn’t sound like a threatening sound, but it was clear that the creature was onto him. He flexed the fingers of his free hand before he stumbled into motion.

He swiped at the dragon, digging his fingers into the feathers where the creature’s neck met its body and getting a good hold. At the same time, he pulled his knife free of his boot. The moment from the action send him stumbling, Malfore wincing at how ungainly he had become. He had thought that spending time in heaven would allow him to recover enough to move as he had when he was younger, but he still stumbled around like the old man he was, full of aches and pains.

Malfore pulled himself back upright with a barely smothered moan of pain, He bit his lip, focusing on keeping a good hold on the knife and the dragon. He would only get one chance, so he had to make it perfect.

He had barely recovered from his stumble when the dragon in his hand went tense. It looked up at him with wide orange eyes before letting out a panicked shriek.

Malfore recoiled at the sound, holding the dragon at arm’s length. He had expected a roar or some snapping like all the other dragons had done. Instead the dragon kept continuing to shriek, flapping its small wings. The behavior was enough to make him stop and stare, trying to get his muzzy mind to figure out what this dragon was acting differently.

“IX!”

The shout made the dragon wail, the creature twisting around and clawing at something off to one side. At a loss, Malfore turned his eyes, his eyes widening as he saw the person standing at the center of the gathering.

He turned to face him, forgetting about the dragon in his hand and the knife in the other. Neither of them were important when compared to the person who was barreling through the crowd towards him. He would recognize that brown hair and purple eyes anywhere. The shape of that nose, the line of the jaw. It was all like he remembered, even thirty years since he had last seen the man. His one and only.

“Mikleo…”

There were a thousand ways that he had imagined this happening over the years.

Mikleo would run into his arms and tell him how he was glad to see him, about how he survived the second dragon attack and had been looking for him.

Mikleo would come to him with long hair in a braid and cut it off right there, because they had been married heart and soul for all of these years and only distance had kept them from consummation.

Mikleo would beg for his protection and Malfore would get to save him from the dragon that had stolen him away all those years ago.

It was all wonderful, the dream that he had clung to years to keep him going through towns that were falling apart and the petty wars started by city-states and want-to-be kingdoms.

The dream he had never contemplated was Mikleo charging up to him and punching him in the jaw.

Malfore went down with a shout, the knife clattering away as he hit the floor. By reflex, he tightened his hold on the dragon, which only made it wail more.

The sound seemed to spur Mikleo into action, Malfore watching wide eyes as Mikleo threw himself onto him, both hands clawing at the one that held the dragon. “Let him go!”

“Beloved-”

“LET HIM GO!”

Malfore yelped as Mikleo ducked his head and bit down on his hand. He released the dragon with a yelp, Malfore curling around his hand. He felt Mikleo get off of him, Malfore daring to glance over at him.

Mikleo was back on his feet, the dragon clutched against his chest. The dragon was making softer whimpers, almost like it was crying, and trying to nuzzle into Mikleo’s shirt. Mikleo curled slightly forward around the creature, backing into the crowd.  They were quick to start forming around him, Malfore reaching out in a panic.

He had done something wrong, but he couldn’t quite place it. All he knew was that Mikleo was backing away from him, and he couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want this to become a place where he would have to do without Mikleo again. The first time he had only survived because he was needed by the people and to prevent others from being hurt as badly as he had.

Malfore reached out, trying to get Mikleo’s name out despite the fear that choked him. He must have made some sound loud enough to be heard over the wailing of the dragon because Mikleo turned to look at him. The expression on his face was almost enough to get Malfore to flinch away and forget the attempt, but he had to be resolute in this. If he didn’t, then he wasn’t sure what kind of afterlife that he would have. Maybe then it would be better to return to the cold and his slowly dying body, of only to hide away from the anger on Mikleo’s face.

Or maybe it was just another test.

That would make sense. Heaven was for the worthy, both of soul and mind. It felt right with everything that he knew, he had to prove himself worthy to remain and to be Mikleo’s lover. It was the only thing that made sense.

He propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring the ache in one shoulder. It would go away soon enough, just as soon as he proved that he was the Shepherd Malfore, the great Shepherd who had killed seven dragons and dedicated his life to protecting humanity.

“Mikleo…”

The sound of his name got Mikleo’s attention, that strange sneer still in place on Mikleo’s face. He wanted to smooth it out, but that could wait later. He took a breath and eased back up to his feet, trying to keep from showing the pain that he felt. It was a distraction and nothing more.

Malfore swayed on his feet, taking a deep breath before taking a step forward. “Mikleo, I-”

He cut himself off when Mikleo reached out to grab his wrist. Mikleo’s grip was crushing enough to make him gasp, but he didn’t dare pull away. He met Mikleo’s gaze, surprised to see anger there. Malfore swallowed, trying to think about what he was doing wrong. A thousand nicknames came to mind, but that probably wasn’t it. Maybe it was his forwardness, or maybe a perceived unfaithfulness. If he felt the drag of years, then it was possible that Mikleo had had too. Or maybe it was something else, like the fact that he hadn’t found Mikleo in time to save him. That would be enough to hold a grudge into the afterlife.

Malfore sighed, reaching out with his other hand to hold the one grasping his wrist. “Mikleo, I’m so sorry. I should have saved you.”

“ _Saved_ me?” Mikleo stared at him for a moment, shaking his head. Malfore didn’t know what to make of the question, not when Mikleo was still looking at him full of fury.

Mikleo shifted, looking away when someone came up to take the dragon from him. Malfore tipped his head to the side, his eyes widening as he saw Count Capalus’ husband.

The man was almost unrecognizable from the shy, almost shadow-like figure that Malfore had seen before. For a moment, he was ready to believe he was wrong, especially with the man’s shorter hair. It was well known that Count Capalus’ husband had never cut his hair, not even after three years of marriage. It was an open mark of shame that everyone had ignored, right up until the moment that the man had disappeared with the priest from the Shrinechurch. He had heard about the search second hand, because he had been busy tracking down a dragon.

The man took the dragon from Mikleo, Malfore surprised at the care that the man took with it. Malfore would have thought that he would have been terrified, especially since he had witnessed a dragon so close to his home. But he took the same care with it as he would a child, which made Malfore want to reach out. The Capalus family was a friend of his own and he was sure that Lancelot would be relieved to know where his husband had gone. But he was in no position to do so, and Lancelot’s husband was far beyond his reach now.

Malfore looked back at Mikleo, trying to shift his wrist a fraction, but Mikleo wouldn’t allow it. His gaze was fixed on the beaded bracelet around his wrist. Malfore looked down at it, easily catching on to what was taking up Mikleo’s attention.

He thought that it had been tacky when his mother had first suggested it, but apparently it was what all Shepherds had worn. They had tied feathers between the beads to mark the dragons that they had killed. Malfore had seven, five for the ones that he had killed and two for the ones that had gotten away, but he was sure wouldn’t have survived. Mikleo was looking at one of the latter, one of the plainer ones with the way it was hanging. It was a light brown on top but, when it was flipped over, the feather was green and yellow and almost shimmered in the light. It wasn’t the most striking of feathers, there was the one that shone iridescent green and the striking black and silver one with only the edges touched with yellow. But Mikleo was staring at the plain one, his hands shaking.

Malfore made a soothing sound and patted Mikleo’s hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t let them hurt anyone, not after you. They won’t hurt anyone else. They’re dead.”

Mikleo’s hand tightened on his wrist, Mikleo finally looking up at him. Malfore expected to see relief or happiness, but all he saw was rage, which made no sense at all.

He tipped his head to the side, trying to work out what was going through Mikleo’s head, but he didn’t get the chance.

“You did this.” Mikleo practically snarled out the words, Malfore yelping as he was dragged forward. “You did this to her.”

“Her?” Malfore glanced back at the feather, trying to comprehend what Mikleo was saying. There had been a dragon, not even something to bother putting worth on, and he had killed it, as was right.

“You did this.”

“I did my job.”

“Your-” Mikleo’s mouth worked for a moment, his fingers loosening on Malfore’s wrist.

He took the moment to pull his wrist from Mikleo’s grasp, taking the chance to reach up to cup Mikleo’s cheek, like he had wanted to do for thirty years now. “I killed it so it wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“No.” The word was so quiet that he almost didn’t catch it. Malfore leaned in closer to try and hear what else Mikleo was going to say, only to recoil as Mikleo grabbed at his hand. He yelped as Mikleo started pulling his fingers back, Malfore relinquishing his hold on Mikleo’s cheek, but even that didn’t stop it. Mikleo kept his hold. “You didn’t kill her. You didn’t have that much mercy. You left her to die, you bastard!”

Mikleo shoved him back, Malfore stumbling into the wall. He thought he heard one of the people assembled call out, but none of them moved to help. In fact, most of them were glaring at him. Only a few looked away, like they were ignoring what was happening. It was enough to get him to press his hands back against the wall, his gaze darting back to Mikleo.

Mikleo was on him in a moment, reaching out to wrap his hands around Malfore’s neck. Malfore gasped, reaching out to grab at Mikleo’s wrists, surprised when they didn’t move away. He looked up at Mikleo’s expression, fear making him freeze for the first time. Mikleo looked enraged, far angrier than Malfore had ever known him.

“Wait.” Malfore gasped the word out, but it looked like Mikleo didn’t even hear, he was staring fixedly at him, the pressure of his grip increasing.

“You didn’t kill her. You carved into her, cut at her backbone and then left her to die.”

“I…My…”

“You left her defenseless and dying slowly all for your stupid title and pride!”

Malfore shook his head, not sure what he was trying to refute, but it didn’t matter, Mikleo wasn’t letting up and he was sure that it would never happen, which made things all too clear.

This wasn’t heaven.

This was a kind of hell that he had trapped himself in for all of his failures.

He tried to take a deep breath, but that was cut off by Mikleo’s hands around his neck. He wheezed, hoping that Mikleo would snap out of whatever was going through his mind and chase out whatever daemon was possessing him. Mikleo didn’t flinch, not even when there was a roar from the crowd behind them.

Malfore saw a blur of red and orange, the terror from Mikleo’s attack abating as he saw a serpentine neck rise from behind Mikleo. Malfore tried to move his hand to try and warn Mikleo, but he couldn’t seem to move it. But it didn’t seem to make a difference, even with the dragon roaring behind him Mikleo didn’t look away.  Malfore gasped as the dragon loomed, and then it was being bowled out of the way by an all too familiar silver and blue beast. Malfore clawed at Mikleo’s hands, not sure if he was trying to warn Mikleo or escape. His heart pounded at the thought of escape, about running as far away from this monster in the form of Mikleo.

The dragons crashed to the ground behind them, a pile of writhing limbs and snapping jaws. A wing passed too close overhead, Malfore gathering up what little wits were left to him with the edges of his vision going black. He shifted his aching body to knee Mikleo in the stomach. That would get him away from Mikleo’s hands and cause the least amount of damage if it really was Mikleo.

He managed to just shift himself into the right position when there was a loud clap of thunder.

Mikleo stumbled back immediately, Malfore collapsing onto his knees as he gasped for breath. He looked up wearily at another clap of thunder, seeing lightning zip through the room to strike close to the dragons. Malfore was sure that it was because he had been nearly unconscious that he saw the lightning flick against the silver and blue monstrosity. The dragon didn’t even react to the lightning, it was the thunder that had the two of them backing away. Malfore leaned out to see what had stopped two dragons from fighting only to see an old man hobbling towards them.

Malfore coughed out a warning as the old man walked between the two dragons, watching in amazement as the old man reached out to touch each dragon on its snout, speaking low to them.

“Wut-Dwuaksuy Tmaru, is this any way to behave as a guest?”

The red dragon sighed and pulled his head back, Malfore’s mouth falling open as silver flame consumed the red dragon, leaving a red-headed man kneeling on the floor. The man glanced at him quickly before bowing his head. “Sorry, Father.”

The old man smiled and gave him a fond pat on the head before turning to look at the silver and blue dragon. The smile on his face disappeared, turning into a more disapproving look.

“And you Dweqcs Scobjuw-”

To his surprise, Mikleo rushed away from him, quick to crouch next to where the dragon was pressed against the floor. “You don’t understand. He-”

“Has behaved rudely for a guest.” The old man sighed and bowed deeply to them. “It reflects badly on me and I apologize for that. I should have asked for your permission before bringing him here.”

Silver flames leapt up around the dragon, Malfore making a pained noise as the flames licked around Mikleo. But they didn’t seem to hurt him, nor did Mikleo give them a second glance. If anything, Mikleo seemed to reach deeper into the flames. It must have been a trick of his mind, because the flames disappeared quickly, but the human that was holding onto Mikleo’s hand couldn’t have come from nowhere.

Malfore’s eyes widened as he saw the wings that twitched against the man’s back, and the tail that curled tightly around his feet. He recognized the man from the carvings that he had seen all of his life, the ones in shrinechurches showing the seraphim looking down on humanity. There was nothing else it could be. But it had been a dragon.

Malfore swallowed, trying to ignore the pain in his throat. It was all madness, something that he would expect from a fever dream instead of heaven, or whatever twisted place that he had found himself him.

He pushed himself back onto his knees, swaying in place. Malfore reached out to brace himself against the floor, not daring to close his eyes. This could all be some cruel trick, and he would end up being killed as soon as he let his guard down.

His gaze flicked over to the two seraphim before setting on the old man. The old man was still in a partial bow, although it looked a little strange, like he wasn’t giving the seraph the deference he was due, but Malfore wasn’t sure he could manage to get the words out properly. Everything seemed to hit the point where Mikleo grabbed his throat and stopped, blocking up there. He ducked his head and tried to cough, managing a few weak wheezes. The red-head looked over at him in concern, the old man taking his time. The old man looked him over before shaking his head.

“But he is here, and I do not intend on letting him die.”

“But-” Mikleo started to speak, but was silence when the seraph beside him, knocked a wing against him. Mikleo frowned but ducked his head, Malfore watching in surprise.

The old man smiled at the two of them before looking back at the red-head. “Tweksdiwb Tmaru, would you please escort our guest back to his room?”

The red-head nodded and rushed towards him. Malfore swayed in place, looking up at the man. He had a distressed look on his face, Malfore wanting to ask why, but the words wouldn’t come out, nor could he move as the man picked him up. Malfore stared at the man with the incomprehensible name before giving up and slumped. He ached all over and he was tired. Above all he wanted to close his eyes and drift away, but that wouldn’t solve the problem of where he was and what had happened.

He turned to look over the man’s shoulder as he was carried away, waiting for Mikleo to turn around and look at him.

But Mikleo never did. Mikleo turned and walked back into the crowd, still holding the seraph’s hand.

* * *

He must have slept again because he woke up in the room. Malfore sat up slowly, reaching up to touch his neck. For a moment, he was sure that he could still feel Mikleo’s fingers around his neck. He rubbed the skin there, swallowing. His throat was still sore, but it was easier to swallow and breathe. He didn’t know what had been done to him, but it had worked well.

He ran his hands over his neck, halfway expecting to feel indents from Mikleo’s anger, but there was nothing but smooth skin. Malfore frowned, his fingers working even as he let his thoughts wander. He was sure that he wasn’t in heaven now, because all of the usual aches and pains were there. He felt solid, in the moment, and a pulse thundered strongly underneath his fingers.

Malfore dropped his hands into his lap, staring at them. That he was alive explained many things, if only barely. It at least put the incomprehensible behavior into some kind of context. He thought it was strange for the workings of heaven, but it wasn’t that. Someone had taking mercy on him and saved him from the cold. The question was, why? What did they want? Or were they a person at all?

He remembered dragons, but they were in the strange half-dream that everything had been the first time he had woken up. He remembered dragons, people who should be dead and seraphim. It was all a strange blur, something that Malfore wasn’t ready to believe. But he knew how events had played out, he remembered the snowy pass of the Guest Mountains, and this room was nothing like it.

Malfore reached out to touch the wall, watching as it lit up with a soft glow. That at least was the truth. He gave the wall a few pats, the smile on his face crumpling away. If that was true, then everything else might be. The dragons, the seraphim.

Mikleo.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the way that it made his head spin. Malfore looked around the room, finding it not too different from what he had seen before. It was a neat little room, a bed, a table by it, a wardrobe and a bookshelf. It reminded him of the rooms that he had seen on his travels, all of them comfortable and homey, but not what he was used to.  Home for him was always the grand house just outside of Pendrago, the one that had passed on to his cousin when he had refused to take it. He was gone for most of the time, so having a mansion wasn’t practical. His life was a Shepherd’s life, which meant on the road.

Malfore played with the bracelet around his wrist, giving the room a look over. His stopped when he looked over at the door, frowning at the curve of something feathered that he saw there. Malfore took a few cautious steps forward, leaning out to try and get a look at what was there without drawing its attention. There was every chance that it would be a dragon, Malfore shuddered at the thought, trying to use it to steel himself to inch a little further away.

The thing at the door came into view, Malfore’s breath leaving him in a rush.

It was there, in all of its glory. Something that he had never thought that he would see.

The seraph had its wings folded against their back and tail loose and relaxed on the floor. Every once and a while it would twitch, but the seraph didn’t look impatient. Malfore didn’t that they could. They were creatures of great power, such a thing was probably nothing to them. Malfore ignored the part of his mind that said that the seraph looked like a guard. No one would ask that of such a great being.

Then again, he was a Shepherd, the first since Shepherd Asbel two thousand years ago. That had to be an honor worth recognizing, He was keeping their people safe. That had to count for something.

Malfore reached out to touch his bracelet, tempted to take it off and offer it to the seraph. It was a small thing, just proof of the deaths of five of the dragons that corrupted the land, and the two to that he wasn’t sure about, but it had to be better than nothing. He ran his thumb over one of the beads, about to take it off when the seraph’s attention snapped to someone coming down the hall.

The seraph turned, Malfore watching as their wings fluffed up. He expected that to be the only sign that the seraph was agitated, but he could hear the waver in its voice when the seraph spoke.

“Should you be here?”

Malfore stepped out of the door, his eyes widening as he saw the man who had carried him back to his room standing there. The man glanced back at him, Malfore surprised to see him blushing. Then he ducked his head. “I’ve come to take our guest outside. It would be good for him…and the others are worried about the pups.”

The seraph huffed, his wings flicking. “That would be for the best. We can’t have another scuffle like we had before. I don’t think the others will be stopped so easily…but can you blame them?”

The man blushed, but didn’t say anything. The seraph stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “We can’t keep the pups locked up either.”

“No…but…”

The seraph sighed and turned around, Malfore going tense under its gaze. The seraph didn’t seem to notice or care, it was too busy staring at him. It felt like the seraph was seeing all of him, and it made him want to hide, although he didn’t know why. He had nothing to be ashamed about.

“Do you feel up to going outside?”

Malfore stared at the seraph in shock. He didn’t know where he was, but he was sure that it didn’t matter, it was winters so that only meant one thing. “Isn’t it freezing?”

“No. It’s a nice day.”

Malfore stared at the seraph, wondering if they couldn’t feel the cold as humans did. He glanced away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Malfore glanced around, taking in the hallway around him. It was beautiful and ethereal, but Malfore didn’t like the idea of being stuck under a guard as he was. Besides, he wanted to see where he had been taken to. He couldn’t quite believe his own first instinct that this was heaven, but he needed to know where he was. Once outside, he might be able to figure out where he had made it to. What he would do after that Malfore didn’t know, but maybe the air would clear his head and make it easier to sort out what was real. Everything in the building seemed to have a dream-like quality to it that he distrusted.

“I’ll go.” He swallowed and played with the feathers around his wrist. “I’d like to go.”

The seraph nodded and stepped aside, Malfore staring at him for a moment before rushing past. The seraphim were great and benevolent creatures, but Malfore wasn’t sure how that benevolence would work out for him. Surely a seraphim would have a bigger view of the world than he did.

“I’ll take you then.”

Malfore was surprised by how eager the man was. He looked over at the man, his eyes widening as he realized that the man had the wings and a tail too. They were both seraphim, one with purple and white wings, the others with red and orange like flickering flames. Malfore swallowed at the sight of the latter, reminded of the dragon that had appeared when Mikleo had been attacking him. Still, it could be coincidence.

He nodded at the seraph, edging past the one of guard to stand by him. Malfore was surprised at the smile that he was given before the seraph gestured with both his arm and a wing. “This way. And stick close, so you don’t get lost, and for your own safety.”

Malfore bristled at that, but he didn’t bother to argue. He didn’t have his sword and, considering the last time he had been awake wasn’t a dream, he didn’t have any weapons left in case he ran into dragons. Malfore took a step closer, trying to keep a respectful distance from the seraph as he was led down the hall.

* * *

Malfore stumbled along after the seraph, his mouth open in shock. He was sure that it had been day since he had walked out onto the mountain. The seraph had led him through so many hallways he was sure that he was going to get lost. But they had emerged from one on the base of the mountain. Malfore stared at the browning grass as it rolled away down the hills. It was something that he had rarely seen, and only around a handful of villages far away from the main cities and Ladylake, but he had always assumed that it was just luck. This was something else.

Malfore turned to look behind him, surprised to see the snow peaked tops of the Guest Mountains rolling off behind him. He had expected to be miles or worlds away. This was the kind of thing that was on the scale of the mythical far continent. Malfore almost expected to see crops growing in the fields, but they were bare. He was almost relieved, because that would be too magical. He wouldn’t know what to do with that information. The fields might have been bare, but he could see the roofs of a town, which looked peaceful in the afternoon light. That in itself was almost too much, because it wasn’t the world that he knew at all. The world he was used to was cruel, this one was almost too kind.

Malfore slowed down, staring at the land around him. “What can do this?”

“Hm?” The seraph slowed down and looked around. He seemed confused for a moment before he caught on. “Oh. That’s Dweqcs Scobjuw’s doing.”

Malfore tilted his head at the jumble of a name. It sounded vaguely like language, but not one that he was familiar with. Still, it was obvious that the seraph was referring to someone that had been in the building. Malfore glanced behind him, his jaw dropping again when he saw the ruin perched on the side of the mountain.

The shush of the seraph’s tail through the grass was a distant sound, Malfore only listening as he stared. “This is the domain of Dweqcs Scobjuw, Mikleo’s husband.”

That got him to snap out of his awe. Malfore shot a look at the seraph. “Ducks…whoever that is, he’s not Mikleo’s husband.”

The seraph blinked at him, a frown slowly crossing his face. “But…he wears the token of their pact and Ladylake tradition states that hair is worn short while they are happy with a marriage. And they’ve had three clutches together…”

Malfore could only stare, because it made no sense. He remembered every moment of the two aborted weddings. He remembered Mikleo’s fear as he was taken away by the dragon both times, and the relief the one time he had returned.

He reached for his bracelet, marking out the beads between the feathers. “How do you know he’s happy?”

“I can see it.”

Malfore’s first instinct was to shake his head, because that couldn’t be true. Mikleo had been taken away by a dragon, a monstrosity of a creature, it wasn’t the sort of life to make anyone happy.

But Mikleo was alive, and he had stayed there for thirty years.

He stumbled to the side, barely aware of the seraph darting forward. He felt a hand on his arm as the seraph guided him to a rock. Malfore sat down heavily on it, staring down at the brown grass.

A flash of red across his vision distracted him from his tangle of thoughts. He looked over at the seraph, meeting their concerned gaze, suddenly feeling like his world was knocked out of kilter.

It had seemed like such a blessing to find Mikleo alive after so long, but that was the only miracle. He was suddenly in a world where it was accepted that Mikleo was married to someone else and happy, where winter didn’t bite as cold, where there were more seraphim that he would ever thing to see, where they cared. It was a world that he didn’t know what to do with. It wasn’t his world, it was one that didn’t make any sense. He wanted the old one back.

Malfore stared at the seraph’s wing, getting the urge to push it away. He didn’t want the seraph there to witness him breaking apart. He didn’t want this being’s sympathy.

His hand twitched, Malfore reaching for the seraph’s wing before he stopped himself. He found himself staring at the dragon feathers that he collected. He had always taken pride in them before, but now they looked gruesome and tattered. Malfore frowned and dropped his hand, shifting on the rock. “You don’t have to watch over me.”

“But-”

Malfore shook his head. “I’m out of the ruin, that’s what they wanted.”

“It’s not just that.”

Malfore eyed the seraph, things finally starting to fall into place. He was almost ashamed of himself for how long it had taken, but that couldn’t be helped. If he needed an excuse, the easy one was that he had nearly frozen to death. But he couldn’t hide behind excuses anymore. He hadn’t been about to since he had started taking his Shepherd duties seriously. He wasn’t young and naïve anymore, he was a Shepherd of thirty long and hard fought years.

He folded his hands in his lap, meeting the seraph’s gaze. “I’m a prisoner.”

The seraph shook his head. “You’re a guest.”

“An unwelcome one.”

The seraph opened and closed his mouth before ducking his head. “What you did with the pup was…”

“My job.” Malfore drew himself upright despite the awful ache in his bones. “I am a Shepherd.”

The seraph stared at him, Malfore watching as he tucked his wings and tail close. The seraph met his gaze for a moment longer before his head. He muttered something, Malfore only catching the word “weren’t” before the seraph stood up and moved off.

Malfore watched him go, tempted to get up but he didn’t think he could manage it. Whatever they had done had healed him, but not helped him recover. That would take a while, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Still, this was strange enough to make him want to try something.  He turned to face the retreating seraph. “Aren’t I supposed to be guarded at all times?”

The seraph stopped, shifting in place before he looked back over his shoulder. Malfore was surprised by the look of pity on the seraph’s face. “What makes you think you aren’t?”

He walked away before Malfore could ask anything else, Malfore frowning at his retreating back. He considered the seraph for a moment before turning away. There were many other things that could occupy his attention, far more interesting things than every little piece of world-shattering information that he had gotten. But the seraph’s words lingered. The seraph might be gone, but he was still being watched.

His first instinct was to look at the sky for a dragon. After so many years, he knew how they flew. There were several distant dots riding the wind, enough to get the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Malfore stared at them for a moment before levering himself up to his feet. He groaned as he did so, feeling his age tug at him. Still, he couldn’t just sit on his rock, not when they were dragons.

Malfore limped towards the town he had seen, looking up at the distant dots every once and a while. They seemed content to stay there, but they would have to come down eventually, and there was a town.

He walked down the well-worn path, his gaze fixed on the roofs. As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of life, laughter, the distance sound of voices and, strangely enough, rumbling. Malfore tipped his head to the side, trying to remember anything about villages on the other side of the Aroundight Forest or in the Guest Mountains, but there weren’t supposed to be any. If there were, they had all disappeared when the great calamity had happened. But here was one.

Malfore slowed down when he came to the edge of the village, looking down at it in shock. He could see people going about their business, freely intermixing with the seraphim. Their bright feathers made them stand out from the humans they were with, but that wasn’t the most startling thing, it was how normal everything was. He expected the deference he saw in the shrinechurches, especially to beings of such ultimate power. But it was like every village he had seen.

Malfore winced when he saw a human hip check a seraph, the seraph’s wings flaring out in what much have been surprise, but nothing happened. Their tail lashed and then they were back to talking like nothing happened. It was entirely unprecedented, and almost a dream. He hadn’t pushed beyond his basic schooling, but he knew that something like this had happened before things had fractured apart.

He considered the village a moment more before his attention was attracted by a child running out of the village. The child sprinted away from the last row of houses before turning and waving at the sky. Malfore followed the motion, his eyes widening when he saw one of the dots peeling away. He followed the flight of the dragon, jerking into motion even as he calculated what would happen.

He would be too slow, the dragon would get to the child before he did.

Malfore muttered a curse under his breath, watching in horror as the steel grey and yellow dragon dove. Some part of his mind registered that it was smaller than the others, but he didn’t get the chance to linger on it. He was without weapons and the dragon was bearing down on the child.

On their part, the child didn’t even run, probably frozen in fear. Malfore took a deep breath, working the words out of his aching throat. “Hey!”

The child must not have heard him because the dragon swooped down close before dissolving into silver flame. Malfore startled backward at that, staring as a human rolled awkwardly out of the mass of flame.

The human skipped along for a moment before crashing into the boy, the two of them tumbling over in a tangle of limbs. Malfore sucked in a quick breath when he saw a pair of wings and a tail in the mix. He didn’t get a clear look until the two of them came to a stop, the two of them leaning on each other. Even with that, it was clear that one of them was a seraph, there was no mistaking the wings and tail. But that made no sense, because the boy had been a dragon moments before. He had seen the change.

Malfore swayed in place, desperately wanting to sit down. He remembered something like that from his dream, which meant that it hadn’t been imagined, but the logic still didn’t make sense. Dragons and seraphim were the exact opposite, one brought pain and the other prosperity. Everything that he had ever heard or read said that. But he had watched a dragon plummet from the sky and turn into a seraph. The silver flames had obscured a lot, but not that much.

At a loss of what to do, he stared at the two, watching as the seraph picked himself up, only to almost get bowled over as the child launched himself at the seraph. “Chal!”

The seraph stumbled back, reaching out to rest a hand on the child’s head. “Careful, Leon.”

The child nodded and the two of them walked off into the village, both of them talking animatedly. Malfore watched them, trying to restructure what he was seeing.

It was like what he had seen in the older books, but the seraphim didn’t look much older than thirteen. This wasn’t a wild creature, or it certainly didn’t act like one. The two of them were gesturing to each other and carrying on like so many children he had seen do. It was too much, and he just had to ask.

He took a step forward, freezing when he heard a familiar voice from behind him. “I wouldn’t.”

Malfore turned around, smiling at Mikleo. His expression wavered when Mikleo didn’t smile back. Mikleo just stared at him before looking away. Malfore watched as Mikleo jerked, like he was going to rush after the two children.

Malfore took a sharp breath, anger bubbling up. “You think I’m going to kill them.” Mikleo didn’t respond, which made it worse. Malfore bristled, taking a step towards Mikleo. “I wouldn’t hurt a child.”

“You were going to before.”

“That was a dragon.”

“And so is Chal.”

“He’s…he’s a seraph.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

Malfore made a gesture at the sky, but he couldn’t get the words to come out, which was strange. He’d never had a problem with words before. It had been part of his training, rhetoric was important, more so if he was going to be a Shepherd.

Mikleo huffed and started to walk away. Malfore reached out for him, freezing when Mikleo shot him a disgusted look. Malfore dropped his hand back to his side, at a loss of what to do. “Beloved.”

“No.” The word was sharp and biting, Mikleo turning to glare at him. “You don’t get to call me that.”

Malfore blinked. “But…you’re my fiancé.”

“Not anymore.”

“You’ll always be-”

“It’s been thirty years, Malfore!” Mikleo turned on him, Malfore stumbling back. That didn’t stop Mikleo. He still came on, walking towards him. “We were never married, and I was never yours.”

“Only because you were stolen away.”

“I _asked_ to go!” Mikleo made a grasping motion before he stopped himself. “Maybe not the first time, but the second time, it was my choice. Why can’t you allow me that? Why do you keep coming back?”

“Because you mean everything to me.” Malfore came to a stop, wanting to push back against Mikleo, but he didn’t know how. There was so much that he didn’t know how to explain, it was all bound up in thirty years of longing. “I couldn’t just leave you to die.”

Mikleo stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “No. I’m not coming back with you.”

“But-”

“No, Malfore. I made my choice and I’m happy with it!”

“How could you be? He’s a monster.”

Mikleo narrowed his eyes before reaching out and grabbing Malfore’s arm. Malfore startled at the touch, staring down at Mikleo’s hand. He didn’t look away, not even when he was dragged off the path and towards one side of the village. Malfore stumbled after him, trying to remember the last time Mikleo had touched him. There had been the moment when Mikleo had tried to kill him, and then the moments before the second attempt at their wedding, and that had been in comfort.

He twisted, trying to get a hold of Mikleo too, but Mikleo’s grip was strong and unyeilding. Malfore looked up at Mikleo, hoping to get a glimpse at what Mikleo was thinking. It had always had been hard to do before, but that was part of what had drawn Malfore to him, his mysteriousness.

He was pulled to a stop, Malfore looking away from Mikleo and down into the little bend caused by the curve of houses. A dragon was crouched there, a human sitting at the end of its muzzle. Malfore stared at the two of them, sucking in a deep breath when he recognized the dragon. It had been years, but he never forgot a dragon he went up against and he remembered this one well.

It had killed two of his Squires before they were done with it, showing a power that only one other dragon had shown; except this one had seemed to command the wind itself instead of the earth. They’d had to tie it down and trap it to be able to get at it. Malfore distinctly remembered hacking through the feathers and skin to get to the dragon’s spine and then digging his sword in to cut through the bone and nerves. It should have been more than enough to kill the dragon, which is why they had left after the second Squire had fallen.  He had only paused long enough to collect a feather, the same one that Mikleo had reacted to.

Malfore swallowed and went to take a step back, but Mikleo held him in place. Malfore shook his head, going to pull Mikleo’s hand off of his wrist when he was jerked forward.

Mikleo turned his head, giving him a cold glare. “A monster cuts into the spine of an innocent person and then leaves her to die.”

“But…it’s a dragon. I had to-”

“You had to do _nothing_.” Mikleo’s voice went low and dangerous. “Milla was doing nothing when you and your Squires caught her, just passing through, but you decided to execute her and take a trophy.”

Malfore glanced back at the dragon before jerking his gaze away. He could still see the other dragon disappearing into silver flame and coming out as a seraphim. There was a chance that it had been a fluke and this was just a dragon. He could demand to see this dragon perform the same feat, but it wouldn’t matter. Everything he had learned about dragons said that they wouldn’t allow a human to sit so close to them and not attack them. This dragon seemed perfectly content to let the human sit in front of her and stroke her nose.

He dropped his gaze, staring at the grass than at the dragon or Mikleo’s rage. “H-how?”

“The world isn’t just full of Shepherds, it’s full of good people too.”

Malfore tensed, wishing that he could raise his gaze, but he didn’t dare. “I protect people. I kill the things that are hurting them.”

“Do you? Do you kill the nobles? Or the mercenaries that attack villages?”

“I’m a _Shepherd_.”

“Fine. But tell me this, when you went to a village that was rumored to have a dragon, how did it look? Like the rest of the world or like this?”

The answer came quickly, but Malfore stopped himself just as quickly. His gut instinct had been to say that they had looked like the rest of the world, but that would have been a lie. He been many places, traveled all over Glenwood, and he had always been surprised how well the small villages held up. When he had been a child, they would have been destroyed either by the unforgiving world, another city or any number of desperate or twisted people, grasping at what they could get. But those villages has stayed strong while everything around them crumbled, even big cities. He had thought those at least would survive, but the villages stood strong, the villages with rumors of dragons.

Malfore dropped his gaze to the grass, frowning at it. There were dragons here, far too many than he was comfortable with, and the place looked like this. It clearly wasn’t a matter of quantity, because the villages had looked like this too. They were pockets of paradise in an uncaring world, and the thought turned his stomach.

Malfore shook his head. “No.”

“No?”

He waved his hand vaguely, trying to indicate the conclusion that he had drawn. “That’s not right.”

“Why?”

“Because someone would have said something. It would be remembered somewhere.” He looked desperately at Mikleo, just getting a twitch of Mikleo’s lip in response. Malfore didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know what to make of this Mikleo, which meant that something had gone wrong.

He shook his head, going to step away. “They’ve changed you somehow.”

Mikleo stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “And you haven’t changed at all.”

Malfore puffed himself up, about to refute what Mikleo had said, but he didn’t get the chance, Mikleo turned and walked away. Malfore gaped at him, running the conversation through his head.

It wasn’t at all like the conversations he’d imagined for when they met again. It had involved more fawning and confessions of love from the both of them. Because he was sure that Mikleo would be ready to escape from the dragon that held him captive, any sane person would.

He turned away from Mikleo, looking down at the dragon and the human. For a moment, he felt a spark of anger, the same spark that had driven him after his first dragon, the red and white one that had driven him away with fire. But the only dragon close was well guarded and one that he had tried to kill once before. Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, not after Mikleo had reacted so badly.

Malfore swayed in place before his legs gave out under him. He grunted when he hit the ground, but didn’t bother to get back up. It wouldn’t matter if he did. Whatever strange spell that kept Mikleo young was holding him in place, which made his whole trip to the mountain worthless. He hadn’t thought beyond this step, which left the last few years of his life empty. There were two other Shepherds that he had trained up to follow after him, but he didn’t know how long they had survived, nor did he know if he should be proud of that. He couldn’t stop seeing the villages with their carefully laid out plots of land and the dragon that had turned into a seraph in a rush of silver flame.

* * *

Mikleo leaned on the doorway staring into the room. He doubted that the two inside were paying attention. Milla was an ungainly sprawl partially on and off the bed. Jude was curled up behind her, looking like he was trying to contain some of her sprawl with his face buried between her wings. Mikleo glanced down at Milla’s leg before shaking his head.

By the time that he and Sorey had learned about what had happened to Milla, Jude had already taken control of the situation. Mikleo had been grateful for that because he hadn’t wanted to hold Milla and Muzet back. He didn’t want either of them to end up like Sorey while he worked on a solution; trapped in a shrine and waiting for the world to get better. Then again, the thought of the two of them out in the world made him just as nervous.  There was no telling how many other Shepherds were out there, and now there was one here.

He turned on his heel and started walking away. It was hard to quash the urge to check on the others. He had people and seraphim that he could trust, his family and Sorey’s family were in the shrine, and that had always been enough. But Malfore was in the shrine too, and he had tried to kill Ix.

Mikleo swallowed and turned in the direction of the Magnus family’s rooms before he stopped himself. Chal would be there because that’s where he always was now. Mikleo didn’t know what it meant, but he wasn’t going to question it, not when Chal seemed perfectly happy trailing after Leon and his friends. Muzet wasn’t going to help soothe him either. The last he had heard from her, she had gone off to the far continent with that king that had so enchanted her.

He played with the end of his sleeve, staring down the dark hall. It wasn’t just the children he wanted to look in on. He had his mother and uncle to consider, they were both curled up in the same room, exhausted from their long flights over the mountains. The only good part of the situation was that the two of them were adjusting to being seraphim, and so more often flying far away from Malfore than at the shrine. Although Mikleo wanted to tell them to lie low for their own safety.

He sighed and turned around, surprised when he saw Sorey standing at the end of the hallway. Mikleo was moving before he could think about what he was doing, He walked down the hallway towards Sorey, not stopping until he was tucked in Sorey’s arms. He pressed his face against Sorey’s neck, sighing when Sorey’s wings closed around him. It was safe and comfortable there, thirty years of marriage had made it so. Mikleo felt Sorey’s hands skimming down his back, Mikleo allowing it for a moment before reaching back to stop them.

“I have at least ten more years before that.”

“What?” Sorey cocked his head to the side, his eyes widening as he realized what Mikleo was talking about. He blushed and tugged Mikleo closer. “I’m not looking, really. I promise. You’ve just been scattered. I wanted to make sure you were here.”

“I’m here.”

Sorey snorted, Mikleo taking that sound to mean that Sorey disagreed. He huffed and pressed his face against Sorey’s shoulder. Mikleo didn’t want to answer what Sorey had implied, because it would mean Sorey was right.

He satisfied himself by petting the braid that ran down Sorey’s back. “How are Ix and Kocis?”

“Asleep and no worse for the wear, despite all of your worrying.”

“Perfectly valid worrying.”

Sorey nodded slowly, his wings falling away. Mikleo twisted to catch the outer edge of it. He ran his fingers through Sorey’s feathers, watching them sparkle in the dim light of the hallway. He was sharply reminded of the times he had seen Sorey descending towards Ladylake, and the expression on Malfore’s face both times.

He flinched, dropping Sorey’s wing. “I don’t want him here.”

“Neither do I. But Gramps claimed him as a guest…”

“He’s a Shepherd.”

“I know.” Sorey pressed a kiss to the side of his head, but Mikleo felt Sorey hesitate.

He frowned and pulled back to look at Sorey’s face. The seraph held his gaze for a moment before shaking his head. “I was going to happen eventually. A Shepherd, not Malfore.”

“All the more reason to keep working.” Mikleo cast a glance down the hallway. The library was just down a level, not too long a walk. It had been a while since he had spent time working on his research. It had been coming together into something that could be published, but the daily running of the shrine had kept him moving slowly, as had the next clutch of eggs. Michael coming to live with them in the twilight of his life had helped, right up until the moment he had been distracted by his own transformation to seraph. The return of Lord Zenrus was just another distraction, but it at least got him to start thinking about it again.

For years Shepherds had been a pressing but distant worry. Now there was one in his home. It had to be a sign to work faster. It didn’t matter that Malfore was growing old, he was probably training others, which would just continue the problem.

He bit his lip, considering his options before pushing past Sorey. It didn’t matter that he technically had all the time in the world, the others didn’t. The seraphim were starting to wake from their sleep and take up their old posts, and he couldn’t let any of them be killed, not when they were just trying to help.

Mikleo pushed away from Sorey, not getting far before Sorey grabbed his hand. He stilled at the touch, looking back at the seraph.

Sorey gave him a long look before shaking his head. “I…I don’t think that’s going to be enough. One published book.”

“But…”

“Alisha will help you but, how will it help anyone else?” Sorey gave him a rueful look. “You’ve told me how hard it is down there, so…how are the schools?”

Mikleo stared at Sorey before cursing. That got a laugh from Sorey, Sorey leaning in to rest their foreheads together. “I’m guessing you were lucky.”

“Yes.” Mikleo closed his eyes, leaning into Sorey. “There hasn’t been time for much schooling, and people will believe superstitions before everything else.”

“A Shepherd before anything else?”

Mikleo opened his eyes, staring at Sorey from a close range. Sorey was smiling at him, one of them that meant that he had already figured out what Mikleo was thinking.

Mikleo pulled back a bit, frowning at Sorey. “You can’t be serious.”

“That’s just the way I see it.” Sorey shrugged. “Your mother and uncle trusted you when you told them about the seraphim because they trust you and your judgement. You trusted me about Gramps and his family because you trust my judgement. Those people have been told all their lives that the Shepherd is the most knowledgeable about these things, so they’ll believe him.”

“But why him?”

“Because he’s the only one in centuries. He’s trained the others. Who else is better?”

Mikleo stepped back, relieved that Sorey let him. What he wanted to do was storm away and work until all thoughts of Malfore disappeared, but he stayed because what Sorey was saying made sense. Information from trusted sources was always the best, and he was the best source for anyone outside the circle of seraphim families. Malfore had already caught a glimpse of what was happening, all it would take was a nudge.

“Why me?”

Sorey gave him a sympathetic smile and stepped forward to kiss him gently. “I would, but I don’t think he likes me. A little matter of me running his wedding twice.”

“You ruined nothing.” Mikleo smiled at him, reaching out to card his fingers through Sorey’s feathers. “Just promise to swoop in and save me if things start looking bad.”

“Always.”

Mikleo nodded, basking in the calm of Sorey’s presence before turning and walking away.

* * *

Malfore didn’t know how long he sat out on the edge of the village, turning everything over in his mind. It was long enough for the sun to start to set and for the dragon and human to move off. Malfore had watched them go, the dragon transforming into a seraph and then sitting patiently as the human had moved one of her legs into a brace. Then she had gone, limping carefully along with one leg in a brace, the human helping support her weight. They had looked at him as they had passed, and the seraph had even snarled, but they hadn’t done more than that. Malfore had gotten a good enough look to realize that the human with her was the Mathis boy, the one who had been snatched away years and years ago. But that fact had slipped away in the never ending churning of his thoughts.

It didn’t matter that he knew where the Mathis boy was, he was sure that the boy was caught the same way Mikleo was. He was caught too, but in a different kind of trap.

He breathed out a long sigh before of falling backwards so he was lying on the ground. He stared up at the sky, expecting something to change, but nothing had. The stars were still in their same places, and the moon was rising as it always did. There was a chill in the air, but Malfore didn’t expect anything different. It was winter after all, he expected it. It wasn’t the pass in the Guest Mountains but he would freeze eventually. It was a matter of if he wanted to get up before then. The shrine wasn’t too far away and he could always make his way back, if he even wanted to. If he was even welcome.

That in itself was a strange experience. Everyone had welcomed the Shepherd, but here, that name was almost a taboo. That at least he could understand. The seraphim were dragons, and he killed them.

Malfore frowned, staring up at the stars before rolling over onto his side. The beads on his bracelet clacked together, Malfore staring at it. He couldn’t see much of it in the dark, just the bits of white on some of the feathers. Malfore reached out to touch them before jerking his hand back. There was no point in gloating over them, not when he was still working through the strange things that were happening.

He frowned at the sound of footsteps, Malfore lifting his head. Malfore pushed himself upright at the sight of Mikleo walking towards him, his eyes widening. He had been sure that he had seen the last of Mikleo the last time they had talked. Malfore hadn’t quite come to terms with that, there had been too much to work through. He couldn’t help his heart from beating just a little bit faster at the thought, but he pushed that aside. Mikleo was here now, whatever that meant.

Malfore looked at Mikleo, not quite abele to read his expression in the dark. He scooted back for good measure, watching as Mikleo stopped a short distance from him.

Mikleo swayed in place, his attention down on his arm. It stayed there as he talked. “You can’t stay out here all night.”

Malfore stared at him, trying to sort it all out. All he had seen was a completely different Mikleo from the one he had known. The one before had been distant in a nervous kind of way. Hours before Mikleo had kept a steady distance between the two of them, mostly with anger. This was somewhere in the middle and he had no idea what to do.

At a loss, he glanced over at the shrine on the mountain. “I don’t think I’m welcome there.”

“Not to the point of letting you freeze. They’re not that cruel.”

“They?”

Mikleo’s jaw worked for a moment before he nodded slowly. “We.”

“You don’t sound like you believe it.”

“I’m not about to let you freeze!” Mikleo snapped the words out, seeming to remember himself at the last minute. He turned away, Malfore watching his shoulders twitch. When he spoke again, it was in a carefully measured tone of voice. “I’m not that cruel.”

Malfore stared at him for a moment before getting to his feet. “Then why did you agree to marry me?”

Mikleo turned to look at him, his mouth opening and shutting for a moment. Mikleo wrapped his arms around himself. “I did it to protect Alisha and Ladylake.”

Malfore tipped his head to the side. He didn’t think Mikleo was lying, but it was a shock to hear it. Over the years he had made plenty of excuses for Mikleo, and that had never been one of them.

He licked his lips, thinking over the answer before shaking his head. “Why would Princess Alisha need protecting? She’s capable.”

“I know. But, she is my friend, and I didn’t wanted to keep her from having to choose between her own happiness and Ladylake. And your family was pushing for a marriage.”

Malfore stared at Mikleo for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think it would have worked. I knew that Princess Alisha preferred girls.”

Mikleo stared at him, Malfore expecting more snapping or an embarrassed statement. But the staring went on for a long while. It was only when Malfore stood up that Mikleo spoke again. “You knew?”

Malfore nodded. “It was obvious when you spent time with her.”

“Oh.” Mikleo went silent again.

Malfore watched him before giving up on waiting for an answer. “So, why did you agree the second time?”

“Because I…I was confused.”

“I would have waited.”

“I know.” It sounded like the admission took a lot up of Mikleo, the man seeming to shake with it. Mikleo took a few deep breaths. “I just didn’t want to be stuck in a life that I would hate.”

“You wouldn’t have. I would never stop you from doing anything that you liked.”

“And what do I like, Malfore?”

He felt his throat go dry, Malfore not daring to shake his head. That would be the wrong answer, even to buy himself more time.

Back then, he had demanded to know whatever he could from his family’s ambassador, because he had been in love with the man in the portrait that had been brought back. The ambassador had been more than happy to talk about the prospective match, Malfore remembered spending hours talking with him, but he couldn’t remember anything the man had said. It had paled in importance when it came to saving Mikleo and then after the loss of Mikleo. He had thought it had just been tucked away into the back of his mind, but it had disappeared completely.

He licked his lips, looking at Mikleo for a long moment before shaking his head. “I did…once. But it’s been a while.” He looked Mikleo over, giving the man a sad smile. “But you haven’t changed.”

“That’s…complicated.” Mikleo made a vague motion with his hand before he dropped it back to his side. “It’s what happens when humans are close to a seraph. I’m growing old, but not like you.”

Mikleo rolled his shoulders, the motion hitching somewhere in the middle of it. Malfore thought he heard Mikleo hiss, but the sound was too quiet and gone too fast. Still, it was obvious that something was wrong from the way that Mikleo sighed and reached back to touch one shoulder. “I haven’t told Sorey, but I feel like it’s starting.”

Malfore stepped forward, stopping short of touching Mikleo. “Like what is starting?”

“I’m becoming one of them.” Mikleo turned to smile back at him. “That’s what happens to any human who stays with the seraphim long enough. They become one.”

Malfore stared at him in horror. “A-a dragon too?”

“They’re the same thing.” Mikleo shrugged again, the motion looking smoother this time. “That’s what they looked like up…wherever they came from. The human thing is new from what I’m told, makes it easier to interact with them.”

“So why do they keep looking like dragons then?”

Mikleo frowned, picking at his sleeves. “Why would you tell them how to be? For them, it doesn’t matter. Dragon or otherwise, they’re them.”

There was a point there, but Malfore didn’t like it. It implied things that made his skin crawl, and he already felt bad enough. He had killed five dragons, five seraphim. He didn’t quite know what kind of blasphemy that counted as, but he couldn’t think of worse ones. Even worse was the sin of hurting the same villages he was trying to protect. He had taken away the thing that had kept them safe and thought himself a savior.

Malfore shook his head, giving Mikleo a sharp look “So what do you expect me to do? People are still afraid.”

“Yes, but some of them aren’t. I’ve heard that, if you call a dragon, you’ll be taken away to a safer place...”

“Used by run aways.”

“And people in fear of their lives.” Mikleo paused before crossing his arms over his chest. “Shepherds might have had a place once, when civilization had fallen apart and the seraphim were stretched thin to try and save their families. They gave the people hope and a feeling of safety.”

“It was based on a lie.”

Mikleo nodded slowly, making the twisting in Malfore’s stomach worse. He wasn’t so naïve as to believe that the world worked in absolutes, he was too old for that. But this was something he was sure wouldn’t be shaken away so easily.  Malfore opened his mouth to speak, surprised when Mikleo beat him to it.

“Does it have to be?” Mikleo tipped his head to the side, watching Malfore closely. “The Shepherd is the savior of humanity, that doesn’t have to change. All you have to do it change what you tell them. Talk about the seraphim and how they haven’t left us alone. Talk to people about what the seraphim do for the land. Leave offerings out for them to show that they are welcome.”

“And the dragons?”

Mikleo flinched. “Work up to that. I have a way to fix that but not everyone would feel comforted by the academic approach.”

Malfore looked at Mikleo, feeling some distant memory stir. He had forgotten much about Mikleo in the intervening years, but he could at least remember that books and study were important. And he could remember how he had sighed and said that he would make it work despite his own disinterest. After all, his parents had made their different interests work out between the two of them, why couldn’t they?

Malfore looked back at the shrine. He had no excuse not to try, not when it was obvious that people had come to terms with the dragons, but he would be working against two thousand years. He sighed. “It won’t be easy. And it would help if I had something that they could trust.”

He eyed Mikleo, almost not surprised when Mikleo shook his head. “I can’t. I have a life here. And I’m not the best example. I’m not a seraph. Not yet.”

“But later?”

Mikleo watched him for a moment before shaking his head again. “No.”

“Not with me?”

“Malfore….”

Malfore gave him a smile, sure that it didn’t look as confident as he would have liked it to. “I used to think that there might have been a chance for us, if we got to know each other.”

“Maybe, but you never stopped taking about yourself. I didn’t get a word in edgewise when we were coming back to Ladylake. You were so sure that you had worked it all out.”

“I had.” Malfore frowned, the familiar argument that it still could coming easily. Because he was sure that it could, all it would take was effort on both of their parts. He didn’t even care if Mikleo was becoming a seraph, he wouldn’t last too long himself either. But a few years of happiness would be enough, he was sure of it, just like he had been sure of everything else.

The thought made him smile ruefully. “Your answer isn’t changing.”

Mikleo shook his head. “No, and it doesn’t matter how much you ask.”

“Is it because of the dragons?”

It was the wrong question to ask, Malfore could see that immediately. Mikleo tensed, away from him, looking back at the shrine. “Yes.”

Malfore wanted to rage at that, because he hadn’t known. There was no way he could have known about the dragons. But he was also aware of the feather dangling with the others around his wrist, and that was the kind of thing not so easily forgiven. Malfore couldn’t think of anything to do to make up for it completely. All he could do was make a start.

He touched the bracelet around his wrist, glancing over at Mikleo. He had thought that the distance was thirty years, but he had been wrong. It was more than that, and the realization of it hurt. It might have worked between them once, but that moment had been so fleeting and slipped away so quickly that he hadn’t noticed it. All he knew was that he had held it, and he hadn’t wanted to let it go. He still didn’t, but what choice did he have? Mikleo looked as distant as the seraphim had always seemed to him, and some part of him hated the dragon for it.  The dragon had made Mikleo into this thing, something too far away for mere mortals to touch.

The anger only lasted a moment before it fell away. Mikleo was lost to him. He had known that for many years. Now it was just a matter of adjusting to the fact that Mikleo was alive and well instead of dead. That would be the hardest part. But he supposed that it didn’t really matter. After this, Malfore was sure that the two of them would never see each other again.

He took a deep breath, dropping his fingers from his bracelet. “I’ll do it.”

Mikleo stared at him with wide eyes before he smiled. “Thank you.”

Malfore just nodded, unable to get words past the blockage in his throat. He looked away, clearing his throat just enough to speak. “I…I just want to stay out here a little while longer, to clear my head.”

Mikleo nodded. “Just don’t stay out here too long.”

“I won’t.”

Malfore wasn’t even sure Mikleo heard him, the man was already walking off towards the shrine. To his surprise, that hurt more than seeing Mikleo taken away by a dragon. With the dragon, Mikleo hadn’t had a choice. With this, there was no denying what he was saying. Mikleo had found something Malfore had spent thirty years searching for.

He sighed and tipped his head up, staring at the stars. If he had been younger, he wouldn’t have given up. He would have pushed and badgered until he had gotten what he wanted. There was still some part of him that wanted to do that, but he could feel it, the shift in everything. He couldn’t fix that, couldn’t pull the divide between them together again, but he could do this thing, because Mikleo had asked it of him.

* * *

“You’re leaving?”

Malfore turned around at the rustle of feathers and the soft question. He was surprised to see the seraph with the fire red and orange wings standing behind him. He hadn’t expected anyone to follow after him, not when it was clear how wary they were of him.

He shifted in place before nodding. “Yes. It seemed best to.”

“But, you were hurt.”

“And I was helped.” Malfore looked the seraph up and down. “Thank you for that.”

The seraph blushed and looked down. “It wasn’t a problem. Seraphim can’t stand to see human struggling. It seemed the right thing to do.”

“Thank you all the same.” Malfore hitched his pack further up on his back, looking out over the Aroundight Forest. He should start walking, although he would have to take the long climb up over the Guest Mountains again. He sighed, looking back over his shoulder at the peaks. “I should be going though.”

“So late?”

“Mikleo asked me a favor, one that should be done as quickly as possible.” Malfore paused for a moment before giving the seraph a smile. “Besides, I don’t think that I’d be welcome for much longer. Shepherds and seraphim don’t mix.”

The seraph drooped, Malfore watching their wings drop and drag slightly along the ground. It was a confusing reaction. Every seraphim he had seen looked like they would have been more than happy to see the back of him. That one didn’t was surprising.

Malfore played with the strap of his bag, the clack of beads making him look down at his bracelet. He stared at it for a while before offering that wrist to the seraphim. “This is what I’ve been doing my whole life.”

The seraph stared at his bracelet before nodded. “I know. We all do. Most of us remember running from Shepherds but…it wasn’t their fault. Humans just…forgot.”

“One of these could be someone you know.”

“One of them is.” The seraph bit his lip. “What are you going to do?”

Malfore raised his shoulder in a shrug. “Talk to people. Try to bring them around. Maybe I’ll even get the others to believe me.”

“It would be easier if you had a seraph with you, to help convince them.”

Malfore stared at the seraph, watching as he shifted in place. It was hard to read them because there was too much to read. There was the face, the tail the wings, and Malfore only know how to read one of them. He couldn’t be sure if the seraph was lying, he wasn’t even sure that the seraph _could_ lie. He watch the seraph’s tail twitch once, twice, and then the seraph was stepping forward.

“No one has seen a seraph in years. Once they have, they won’t be able to doubt you. And…when we do talk to them about dragons-”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

The seraph shot him a sharp look, Malfore surprised to feel a thrill of _something_ rush down his spine. He went still, watching as the seraph nodded. “ _When_ we talk to them about dragons, what better way to show it? A dragon and a Shepherd working together for the sake of the people.”

Malfore stared at him before sighing. “Or I could leave by myself.”

“How would you get through the forest?”

“I’m not going that way. I’m going over the mountains.”

“How well did that work last time?”

From the smile the seraph gave him, he knew that he had Malfore beat. Malfore considered it for a moment before sighing.  “Why do you want to come along so badly?”

The seraph snapped his wings close, his gaze shifting for the forest. “I’ve spent two thousand years away. I want to see the world again.”

Malfore eyed the seraph. He didn’t like his chances of just running; the seraph could out run or out fly him. His chance at surviving the mountains or the forest would be greater with the seraph too. And, the seraph was right about the humans. Walking among them with a seraph by his side would go a long way to convince them, further than Mikleo’s book and maybe even better than some of the quotes from religious scriptures that he had found along with the bag. It meant an extra pair of eyes on the road too.

Malfore rubbed his jaw, turning to look back at the shrine. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for there, maybe a clear answer on what he was doing. Instead he thought he saw a flash of silver.

Malfore froze, staring at the distant shrine, because it would just be his imagination. He was too far away to see or be seen, but that didn’t stop him from picturing Mikleo watching him, with the blue and silver dragon by his side.

He allowed himself a moment of wistfulness for what could have been before stopping himself. He had spent thirty years on that, and it had amounted to nothing. He had known it then but ignored it, and he knew better now.

Malfore adjusted the pack on his back, giving the seraph another look. “So, what do I call you?”

“Wut-Dwuaksuy Tmaru is my title.” The seraph hesitated for a moment before ducking his head. “When I was young, the humans of the village called me Lawrence.”

“Lawrence then, so you don’t have to listen to me mangle your name, oh great seraph.” Malfore thought he heard a snort, although he was sure that it was laughter more than anything. He rolled his eyes, but he was unable to keep from smiling himself. “If you’re coming, then keep up, Lawrence, we have a long way to go.”

* * *

Malfore stretched out his knee with a hiss, feeling the joint stiffen and catch. He had hurt it fighting one of the dragons, he couldn’t quite remember which one. He groaned as he felt something slot back into place, Malfore stretching his leg out completely. He gave it a baleful look before turning around to rummage in his bag.

Traveling with a seraph had its perks, but the short flights messed up his sense of direction. They had been making them more often, just to cover the miles. Malfore figured that it would be easier to start talking to people away from the big cities and the stronger grip of the church. The people out in the villages would react better to the sight of Lawrence. Besides, it would start rumors spreading, which would do half of his work for him. That and it was getting Lawrence adjusted to the new world.

He looked over his shoulder into the woods, looking for any sign of the orange and red seraph, but it was a little too dark for him to see too far into the woods. Malfore kept looking for a few moment more before raising his shoulder in a shrug. Lawrence would get back when he was finished, so there was nothing to worry about. Despite being away for two thousand years, Lawrence knew how to take care of himself.

Malfore sighed and leaned back against the log he had rolled close to the fire, watching the flames leap and dance. He looked away when he heard the sound of footsteps.

Malfore tensed, reaching down for the sword at his side even as he leaned out. He dropped his hand away when he saw a family scurrying into the light of his fire.

The adults immediately pulled the child in between them at the sight of him. Malfore raised his hands, sitting still as he watched the mother stare at him. Her eyes widened as she saw the cloak that he was wearing, the woman immediately dropping to her knees. “Lord Shepherd! My apologies.”

“None needed.” Malfore gestured to the fire. “Feel free to join me.”

The complied in a rush, Malfore looking them over. They weren’t the kind of ragged that months on the road could make people, but there was a look of desperation in their eyes, like they had been working through bad circumstances. Malfore almost wished that he’d gotten the chance to pull his map out, because he would have been able to find one of the towns in the area or figure out where the myriad little villages would be. He wasn’t sure it mattered as much though.

He shifted on his log, smiling at them. “What brings you this way?”

“My sister.” The husband spoke up. “We were with her for the past year and a half, helping her after the village was attacked.”

“Dragons?”

“No, thank the Great Lords.” The man shuddered. “Mercenaries, brigands. There’s no end to the trouble over there.”

Malfore hummed, glancing down the road. He knew what the seraphim could do for the land, but he assumed that they would be able to protect their villages. After all, a dragon could be a deterrent just by lying somewhere, and there were a lot of seraphim waiting in the shrine. Malfore rubbed his jaw, considering the problem before pushing it to the side for a while. That was something to talk with Lawrence about, but maybe once the family was gone. He was just there to start correcting people’s ideas about seraphim. That seemed to be the next step along the line, and maybe a step too far.

He looked back at the family, settling back against the log. “You should travel with us then.”

“Us?”

The wife shook her head. “We couldn’t. We’re going nowhere near a city.”

Malfore waved his hand to dismiss the statement. “A Shepherd’s job isn’t only in the city. I’m working out to the smaller villages to see what can be done. Me and my partner.”

That didn’t seem to reassure either one of them. The woman picked up their child and settled it on her lap while the man crossed his arms over his chest. “You make it sound like there’s an easy solution.”

“There is, but I wouldn’t call it easy. It depends on how willing people are to listen.” A rustle drew his attention back to the woods, Malfore relaxing a fraction. It didn’t matter that he knew they were traveling far from the beaten path that the Shepherds he had trained would take. Both of them had been his Squires, and trained because he could feel himself slowing down as he got older. Malfore didn’t think either of them would be as eager to strike off on their own into the parts of the world that couldn’t be so easily protected by the city-states. It was a shame, but it gave him a head start.

Malfore considered the woods for a moment before shrugging. “But talk like that should wait until after dinner. My partner is coming back, and there should be enough to share.”

He didn’t miss how eagerly the people leaned forward, although the two parents still looked wary. That was going to be something he would have to work on, although food would go a long way towards that. He would have to consider other approaches later, when he wasn’t aching from a long night of flying and day of walking.

Malfore leaned back on the log, waving at Lawrence as the seraph came out of the forest, a deer on his shoulder. “Lawrence, we’re having company tonight.”

The seraph paused for a moment, Lawrence adjusting the deer over his back. His wings spread slightly at the moment, Malfore trying to hide a smile as he heard the people gasp. He gave himself a moment to get control over his facial expression before looking back at them.

They still looked exhausted, but there was hope there now, and that made something in his chest twist. Malfore reached for his bracelet as the family surged forward, listening as they stumbled through the shrinechurch devotions to the seraphim while Lawrence tried to talk them out of it. It was amusing to watch, especially with the way that Lawrence’s wings fluffed up the longer it went on, but Malfore didn’t intend to stop it. The people needed the reverence for now, they could get familiar when there were more seraphim in the world. For now, it was in the small steps.

He stroked his fingers over one of the feathers on his bracelet before reaching up to wiggle it off of his wrist. Malfore stared at it for a moment, taking in how ragged and dull the feathers were. He shook his head, weighing the bracelet and all it had represented in his hand before tossing it into the fire.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Mikleo and Sorey’s Clutches:  
> Milla and Muzet  
> Chaltier (single egg)  
> Ix and Kocis
> 
> Titles:  
> Messmu Meqcsbebq - Little Lightning (Sorey’s title)  
> Dweqcs Scobjuw - Bright Thunder (Sorey’s title)  
> Tweksdiwb Tmaru – Firstborn Flame (Lawrence’s Title)  
> Wut-Dwuaksuy Tmaru – Red-breasted Flame (Lawrence’s Title)


End file.
